To the Sky
by Avenginghunters
Summary: Ambition fuels every decision they make, but it just might bring a crew together. An Academy Era saga. Mirrorverse Au Cross-Posted on Archive


Chapter 1:

"Restraints in place," barked the lieutenant commanding the shuttle. Seatbelts snaked across the cadets' bodies. The tight fibers bit into Jim's shoulders and held him uncomfortably upright. He surveyed his fellow passengers, trying to size them up. S _he must be an admiral's daughter, could be useful. He had dark eyes and a squint, probably a pilot. Wonder if he already had a ship lined up. If he did, might be worth knowing._ Finally, his eyes traced to the man sitting next to him. Tallish, dark hair, weathered face. His eyes were shut - with pain, with fear? No profession easily discernable. Jim's eyes narrowed a bit as he calculated how best to ingratiate himself. The man shifted in his seat, eyes flaring open as the shuttle banked sharply. "Mediocre pilot, eh?" Jim murmured to him.

"They're all mediocre from where I'm standing. You can't build an empire on assassination and expect well-trained pilots." the man didn't pause afterward or try to censor himself. _Only two groups of people would dare openly criticize the empire_ , Jim thought, _the family of incredibly well-connected admirals, or doctors._

Jim decided to take the risk. "Where'd you go to med school?" he asked with a slight smirk.

Well-concealed surprise registered in the man's eyes. "Imperial University School of Medicine, though I fail to see why it would concern you."

"Oh, I'm not concerned. I just like to be aware of my fellow man. Name's Kirk." He stuck out his hand to shake.

The man refused it, but gave an incline of his head. "McCoy."

"And what brings you so far away from that cozy country practice I know you've got earthside?" Jim grinned at the growing uneasiness that McCoy was struggling to conceal.

"Wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce. All I've got left is my bones." the doctor pulled a flask out of his pocket and took a long draw before offering it to Jim. Jim was hesitant, fully aware that the competition in the academy was fierce enough to justify poisoning him on the flight in.

"Don't be a damn fool. I'm a doctor. It's only you command track blockheads that'll poison a man with a drink so pure as whiskey."

Jim scoffed, "You'd be surprised, Bones." He accepted the flask, silently toasting his admittance into Starfleet before taking a drink.

Xx

The cadet laughed. "I thought you were some small-town hick who only has sex with farm animals."

Jim grinned wolfishly. "Not only."

She laughed again, pretty but still on her guard. Nevertheless, Jim still felt he'd made an ally, or at least someone to talk to on his daily walk to the library from Alien Botany. She had a look about her that suggested she could play people almost as well as he could. It would not do to underestimate her. But Jim wanted more information. "Really though, what's your name?"

The laughter was still on her face but gone from her eyes. "Oh, because all your little livestock friends would just tell you right away. You're not getting it. Welcome to the city, kid."

"You really make bestiality seem more appealing."

"Paltry praise, Kirk."

"Shouldn't you say poultry?"

She snorted. "Fine. Uhura, that's all you're getting."

"Thank you for treating me as an equal. It's a pleasure, Cadet Uhura."

"Sure, Kirk, now get out of my face. I've got studying to do."

"Studying, really? I thought you were brilliant in xenolinguistics." Something seemed off, as short as their acquaintance had been, she was way too good for study groups. They could be a liability. So she had to be playing someone, probably in the study group.

"I am, but I like to keep my grades as high as possible," she deadpanned, mirth smothered. "Bye, Kirk."

So, someone higher up. Jim hadn't taken xenolinguistics yet, but he'd have to keep an eye out for a professor or TA with a soft spot for Uhura. They could also be worth knowing.

Xx

"I didn't join Starfleet to stitch up busted faces after happy hour every day. I should be in the research labs off-world and you know it." Leonard knew he was treading on thin ice with the Academy's head doctors, but he couldn't do another late shift.

The lieutenant commander pinched his forehead and grimaced, an expression Leonard knew meant that he was incredibly close to exploding. "I am aware of your significant talents, Doctor McCoy, but you've got to know that your attitude is the only thing holding you back, not me. The other cadets-"

"The other cadets are idiots who wouldn't know a Cardassian's nervous system from an Andorian's." He clenched his jaw. Seeing scores of inept butchers skip ahead of him because they kissed ass better was beginning to gnaw at him.

"The other cadets," the commander continued,"are much better at not aggravating everyone they meet."

"I do not-"

"McCoy."

"Yes, sir." Leonard grumbled. He could see that this particular commander wasn't going to get him anywhere fast. Leonard spun on his heel, content to concede the battle for another day, but the commander stopped him.

"McCoy, there's another reason you've been stuck in the clinic for so long."

Leonard paused, feigning interest, but he was almost certain he knew exactly what, or who, was keeping him down. "Please go on, commander."

"It's your wife."

"Ex-wife," he corrected.

"Ex or not, she's got it out for you and she is dead set on making sure you're straightening out busted noses for the rest of your career."

Leonard had no retort. He knew the break had been bad, knew he should have expected something like this, but secretly he wished Jocelyn hadn't decided to get so Machiavellian. "Thanks for the heads-up. I'll keep that in mind," he muttered. Leonard forced a terse nod at the lieutenant commander and turned back to the emergency room.

He did not expect for the next busted nose to be Kirk's. He was holding a cloth mostly soaked with blood, but he still managed a half-smile and piercing eye contact with Leonard. "Fancy seeing you here," Kirk said, voice muffled by the cloth.

Leonard raised his eyebrows. "You didn't strike me as such an idiot last time we met," he said, snapping on some surgical gloves. "Give me your filthy snot-rag and let's take a look."

Kirk shrugged and followed the doctor to an examination room, proffering the cloth. "Sir, please accept this as a token of my esteem." Leonard shook his head and didn't bother to answer. _Idiot's probably concussed, too._

But after he called a young nurse into the room, he began to realize that Kirk's tactics actually worked. The next bloody rag that came away from Kirk's nose was accepted with a giggle, to Leonard's consternation. A lieutenant that Leonard barely knew passed outside the door and actually poked his head in to ask how Kirk was doing. _A cult of personality,_ he thought incredulously.

But cults of personality couldn't heal themselves any better than mere mortals. Leonard took a deep breath. "Alright, Kirk, what's your favorite color?"

Kirk frowned. "What do you-"

Leonard snapped his nose back into place and Kirk yelled in pain. "What the hell was that for?"

Leonard turned to find bandages. "They say it hurts less if it's a surprise." Leonard had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time he saw Kirk in the emergency ward.

Xx

Jim sat at a table at the edge of the courtyard that stood in the direct center of campus. The warm, sunny weather had drawn everyone out of their dorms and the library to sit in the sun in the only grassy place within walking distance. He didn't like the crowd, but couldn't resist getting what little sunlight was left in the day. He pulled out his mechanics textbook and began reading for the next day's class.

 _A good shield strength is absolutely necessary to maintain during long voyages, as your shields could one day be the only thing standing in between you and death or disgracing the empire with defeat._

Dramatic, Kirk thought, but remembered his own father's demise fighting for the glory of the empire. Their shields had held out far longer than should have been possible, long enough to get his mother off of the ship at any rate. He'd been born in a shuttle careening wildly away from the dying remains of the I.S.S. Kelvin. _Maintain Shields,_ he thought, _noted._

Jim was pulled out of his reading by loud laughter a table away. He looked up and saw a security track cadet leaning into a conversation with a round-faced, green skinned girl next to him. He was a burly, aggressive men who probably joined the Empire, not for glory or advancement, but for the opportunity to kill across the galaxy. The girl looked uncomfortable, forced laughter and her increasing physical separation from the cadet an obvious sign.

Jim sighed. It wasn't his problem, but he had to do something for her. _She might come in handy later,_ he reasoned. He stood and packed his backpack up. He transferred his knife to his jacket sleeve, hoping that he wouldn't have to use it, but prepping it for quick access just in case.

"Is this guy bothering you?" he called loudly. Several heads in a two-table radius peaked up. Kirk breathed a small sigh of relief. The more people paying attention, the less likely that the cadet would want to cause a scene."

"Get the hell out of here, Kirk." the man turned and spat in his direction, "This is none of your business."

Jim stepped forward, smiling. "I've never minded my own business a day in my life, Redshirt, and I certainly don't intend to start. Now get lost." Something about the way Jim's voice lowered into a growl, or maybe the glint of the pommel of his knife under his jacket sleeve sent the man away with his tail tucked between his legs.

He grinned the girl still at the table. "Sorry about them."

She forced some laughter again. "Nothing I can't handle. Thanks, though. That was...kind."

"No, it was just fair. You shouldn't be threatened by grunts. It's dishonorable and they should be punished."

She grinned a little more impishly this time. "Who said I wasn't threatening them? Haven't you heard of Orion pheromones? You never know when I might foist myself on people. Or force them to foist themselves on me. How's that for honor?"

Jim laughed outright. "No dishonor in a little fun." His grin faded a bit. "Honestly, though, that never crossed my mind. There shouldn't be room for discrimination on the bridge of starship. We have so many better things to do."

"Like what?"

"Like quashing the San Francisco rebellion that's about to happen under our noses, for one thing."

She raised her eyebrows. "You're paying a lot of attention to the townies."

"No more than they're due."

The Orion was about to reply when she cried out cheerfully. "Uhura! Hey, come meet my new friend!"

Jim turned to see the linguistics student heading toward them. _I knew she'd be useful,_ he thought. "Why hello, Uhura without a first name."

Uhura ignored him. "Gaila, what are you doing with this idiot? He's useless and probably dangerous."

Gaila pouted. "Come on, Uhura, he actually chased off a few redshirt grunts for me. I wouldn't say useless quite yet."

Uhura rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Come on, Kirk, you've been a knight, now scram."

Jim grinned. "As you wish, milady."

Jim found a table a few tables away from Gaila and Uhura and opened his Alien Cultures textbook. He knew the textbook was unbearably unacademic and biased, but it was required for all Starfleet students. He had to admit with classes such as that that it was brave of Gaila to join Starfleet as an Orion. There were few of her kind in the fleet, and attitudes toward them varied wildly.

It was fully dark after Jim had choked down another chapter of the textbook, he packed up his books and started to leave the courtyard when he heard heavy breathing behind him.

He turned around and found himself face to face with 6 burly security cadets.

"Evening, gentlemen." he smiled, taking a few steps backward. The group remained stoic, glaring pointedly at him. _What do they want?_ Jim answered his own question when he saw the ringleader. The man he'd run off earlier stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear.

"Evening, Kirk."

 _Shit. Shit. Shit._ Jim had only seconds to steel himself before the blows hit his stomach, his ribs, his nose, and finally his head. He hit the ground, blackness invading the edge of his vision. He felt a final hard kick to the ribs before he lost consciousness. He saw the men walking calmly away as his vision finally left him.

 _Shit._


End file.
